


Night Cycle

by AndromedaPrime



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Transformer Sparklings, past mechpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:15:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11805819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndromedaPrime/pseuds/AndromedaPrime
Summary: When the sparkling chirps, Megatron answers the call.Sequel ficlet toFor Eternity.





	Night Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> A number of my stories have been less than happy lately, so I figured that a little sequel ficlet to _For Eternity_ would suffice. Just pure sparkling fluff and that's mostly it, folks! 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy ;)

_ Chirp! _

Opening a bleary optic, Megatron looked across the berthroom and saw a pair of bright, happy red orbs staring back at him. The chirping recommenced as the sparkling bounced up and down in the little berth.

“Minimus,” Megatron yawned, “she’s up.”

The minibot curled further into Megatron’s chassis and made a tired noise. “Before waking hour, she’s your sparkling to deal with,” he sleepily murmured into the warlord’s broad chest without opening his optics.

Fair enough, Megatron thought. Minimus had been dealing with the aches, pains, and the incessant kicking for the entire carrying cycle while he’d just tried to comfort him as much as he could. Megatron slowly rose up and climbed over Minimus, taking care to not disturb the smaller mech much. The sparkling’s chirps increased, and she reached her arms out for her sire.

“Hold on, Astraea. I’ll be there in a moment.”

But Astraea, as he’d come to know by now, wasn’t capable of holding on. Her chirps became more insistent as he made his way over to her, ceasing only once he’d picked her up and cradled her in his arms. She snuggled in and chirred happily.

“I take it you haven’t learned the difference between night cycle and the morning cycle aboard this ship yet, have you?”

The little femme’s bright crimson optics blinked up at him, and she gently raised a servo and bapped him on his chin, chirring quietly as she did so.

“Of course you haven’t,” Megatron said dryly as he kissed the sparklet on the top of her helm. “Come on. Let’s take a walk outside so we don’t disturb your carrier.”

Minimus made a noise from the berth, but stayed deep in recharge. Megatron looked at the minibot sprawled out on the berth, hogging all the space he could. He smiled at the sight, and quietly walked over and kissed Minimus on his cheekplate before heading out with their sparkling in his arms.

Astraea loved the stars - the halls of the ship were lined with windows to peer out of, and she always gestured that she wanted to be closer. Megatron held her up to a window and she put her chubby little servos on the glass, pressing her face up to the stars. Her little pedes wriggled excitedly.

“Your carrier can’t reach this far up,” Megatron said with a smirk on his faceplates, “without getting into the armor. So it’s a very good thing that I’m in charge of you at night.”

_ Chirr-chirp-chirr. _

“You don’t like the armor. We’ll have to get you used it, in some manner.”

Megatron remembered initially doubling over in laughter the first time Astraea panicked and cried when Ultra Magnus took the place of her carrier, Minimus Ambus. Minimus in the Magnus Armor had looked stricken, and when he’d made his way over to the femme to try and hold her, well, the sound of her terrified scream caused the minibot to break down in Megatron’s arms later that night. The sight had made the old warlord sincerely regret how funny he’d originally found it.

_ “She’s scared of me,” Minimus sobbed into Megatron’s chassis, his servos clutching the seams of armor. “She hates me. I’m such a horrible carrier.” _

_ Megatron rubbed Minimus’s back and cooed quietly, looking at the sleeping femme in her crib and then at the storage closet where the Magnus Armor was. “It is something she will have to get used to.” _

Astraea called his attention again, chirping and pointing at something out the window. Megatron gave a tired smile and adjusted his grip on her before looking at where she pointed. A comet, faraway but visible from the window, was passing by. Brilliant, glowing, moving so gracefully - it was no wonder that it caught the little femme’s attention.

The old, former warmonger stared at her, as he always did in these moments when he couldn’t quite grasp that he’d had a servo in the creation of this adorable, innocent, perfect little thing. She was such a happy sparkling, a welcome balm to the constant strife in this little corner of the universe. Everything she did, mundane as it was, was incredible.

He thought back to her birth - Minimus crying out in pain, his hips only just wide enough to pass her through as he pushed. Astraea’s first wail, loud and panicked. Minimus’s face of pure and utter joy, his pain having been forgotten as he tucked her helm under his and kissed her, sobbing and telling her that he loved her so much.

And he, the once-harbinger of death and destruction, once the most feared and hated mech in the universe, holding his world comprised of a load-bearing minibot and a tiny femmeling made from love itself.

Ever since he and Minimus had left the medbay with their number three, they’d been busy fending off the rest of the  _ Lost Light  _ and their intense curiosity. Rodimus had insisted on being a sparkling-sitter, much to Minimus’s annoyance. Neither mech trusted Rodimus to take care of their bitlet and have both of them come out of it functioning.

Drift had been a very strong  _ maybe _ . At least, until they caught him and Rodimus painting a moustache equivalent to Minimus’s facial insignia on a chirping and happy Astraea’s faceplates. Minimus had nearly court-martialed the both of them. Chromedome and Rewind absolutely loved the bit, but Rewind was too small to even properly take care of a Megatron-sized bitlet, and Chromedome was too nervous to take on all the tasks himself.

Whenever Tailgate came across her, he babbled about how cute and incredible she was. Cyclonus said next to nothing, but it was clear from the expression on his faceplates that he found the sparkling to be interesting.

Frankly, about the only bot on the ship they could probably trust with their little femme for a prolonged period of time was Ratchet, but the curmudgeonly medic had thoroughly scared Astraea when she’d been brought in for a wellness check-up. Her level of wariness around the medic was equivalent to her reaction to the Magnus Armor.

_ Warble? _

The comet was now fading out of sight, and Astraea looked up at him with wide, carmine optics full of curiosity. She pointed where the comet was.

“It will return someday, I’m sure,” Megatron said as he stroked her helm and walked on through the corridor, taking care to not go too far. Funny thing, really: if Minimus were with them, they could walk to the other end of the ship, but if she felt her carrier’s electromagnetic field too far away, she would begin crying.

“This makes me wonder,” he looked at her and she burbled at him, wriggling her chunky legs, “what you’ll become like. What your voice will sound like,” he tapped at her nose and she giggled, “what your favorite planets and animals and artists may be. And I wonder,” he adjusted his grip on her, “whom you take after more. Myself, or your carrier? I certainly don’t remember being as happy as you are.”

She blinked her red optics at him and snuggled against his neck, warbling quietly, her servos kneading on his chassis.

He stroked her back, and soon enough the little bitlet’s systems powered down and she had gone into recharge. He stayed where he was, standing on front of another window and looking out at the stars. It was peaceful, quiet, and he was thankful that it was so early in the morning cycle that no one else was around to pester him for a chance to pull some stupid face at his sparkling.

“Come,” he said, kissing her helm, “let’s put you back to recharge.”

Her optics fluttered under their covers.

.-.-.

_ Warble? _

Megatron opened his optics once more to see Astraea sitting up in her berth, looking intently at him. 

“What are you doing up again?” he asked, knowing full well that he wouldn’t get an answer and that he was utterly wrapped around this sparkling’s digits. He got up from the berth and put her in his arms. She chirped at him and pointed at the big berth.

Smiling, Megatron knelt next to a still-recharging Minimus and deposited an armful of sparkling on the minibot.

The enforcer woke up, gasping in surprise and clearly only about a quarter functioning, but then calmed when his field recognized the happy one buffeting against his. He wrapped his arms as much as he could around the growing bitlet and let her snuggle under his helm, just as she did her first nanoklik of life. 

Megatron felt along their bond, and smiled at the intense love and warmth coming from both Minimus’s and Astraea’s ends. Carrier and creation, utterly wrapped in one another, purest of love that ever existed.

Astraea chirped quietly, her big crimson optics dimming as she placed an audio receptor over Minimus’s chassis, listening to the steady pulses of her carrier’s load-bearing spark.

The minibot’s faceplates shifted into one of pure contentment as he wrapped his arms around the sparkling. Megatron slipped into berth on the other end, curling himself around the minibot and their sparkling, holding his whole universe in his embrace. There were those thoughts again, that if he let them go they could disappear and this would all be a dream, but he shunted them to the side. He knew better.

“Minimus,” he whispered against the other bot’s audio receptor.

Minimus blearily reopened his optics, locking sleepy gazes with the warlord, and smiled at Megatron, who returned the grin and lightly pecked the green and white-armored bot on his lipplates.

“Thank you,” Megatron murmured, and watched the minibot’s vermillion optics light up. He’d said it so many times by this point that Minimus no longer felt that he needed to ask what the gratitude was for.

Between them, Astraea yawned and stretched her arms out, making the most adorable (if Megatron were to say so himself) warbling noises as she settled back in for recharge between her creators.

In that moment, there was nothing more perfect in the universe, no place else that the warlord would rather have been. The calm and happiness in their fields helped soothe his spark and lull him into recharge again. 


End file.
